


The Right to Love

by liggytheauthoress



Category: Leverage
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Fluffiness, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liggytheauthoress/pseuds/liggytheauthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of them have ever been very tactile people. Hardison will hug, but that’s about it; Parker’s never really been exposed to a touchy-feely environment; and Eliot is, well, Eliot.</p>
<p>But somehow, that changes when they're together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right to Love

They don’t even notice it at first. The way Hardison and Eliot don’t object to Parker rarely, if ever, acknowledging their personal space, or the way Parker will perch on the arm of the chair Eliot is sitting in instead of the couch, or the way Hardison will let his hand linger just a beat longer than normal when one of them hands him something.

It’s so gradual that not even Sophie notices until one night, after a job almost goes very, very wrong and ends up with Parker and Hardison held at gunpoint and Eliot almost getting thrown off a roof. Everyone is fine, acting normal, but when they’re back at Nate’s she can’t help seeing that something is different. When Eliot is making dinner, Hardison and Parker are practically glued to the island, their stools pushed so close together their arms are touching. Every so often Parker will reach over and swipe a chunk of the tomato that Eliot is chopping up, and he half-heartedly swats at her hand before rolling his eyes and letting her claim victory.

Sophie also doesn’t fail to notice the way they all keep brushing their fingers against one another’s arms and shoulders during dinner, or the way Parker keeps nudging Eliot and Hardison’s feet under the table.

It’s odd, but Sophie chalks it up to residual adrenaline, the subconscious desire to make sure the team is okay. And those three have always had their own weird way of interacting, anyway.

* * *

 

They don’t exactly get a lot of extended time off, but Nate does his best to make sure his crew gets some vacation time in (only one of them at a time, though, so they still have most hands on deck). Parker’s been in Costa Rica for the past week, and if Nate didn’t know better, he’d say Eliot and Hardison have actually been moping. Hardison only leaves the couch for food and bathroom breaks (and when exactly did Nate acquire three extra roommates, anyway?), and Eliot is even grouchier than usual, if that’s possible.

When Sophie calls to say she’s just picked Parker up at the airport and they’re on their way over now, Nate doesn’t fail to see the way Hardison sits up a little straighter or the way Eliot quickly glances up from his book. He doesn’t think anything of it, though - he’s missed Parker too.

Although the grins on Eliot and Hardison’s faces when Parker comes bounding through the door and tackles them both with bear hugs are hard to ignore.

* * *

 

It’s not unusual for guys to hit on Parker when they’re out on a job, or for girls to flirt with Eliot or Hardison during the traditional post-job celebrations in the bar. In the past, such attentions have always been met with positive reactions from the recipient and indifference from the others (except for Parker, who can rarely even tell when someone is flirting with her).

But lately, it’s been different. When a girl starts batting her eyelashes in Eliot’s direction, Hardison will position himself on Eliot’s other side, fingertips just barely brushing his elbow, or Parker will sit down on the bar with her legs between Eliot and his admirer. If it’s Hardison, Parker situates herself so their shoulders are touching while Eliot leans on the back of the chair next to him. And when it’s Parker, the boys will find excuses to openly touch her, whether it’s a hand on her arm or the small of her back, and Hardison is always sure to keep her attention mostly on him (and it’s not clear whether it’s intentional, but Eliot will, more often than not, do that thing with his eyes that scares people).

Nate and Sophie have no idea if the three of them even notice it, or if they do and are totally okay with it, or what, but as long as the team is functioning they’re happy.

Plus, it’s always entertaining when Eliot pins someone to the wall for grabbing Parker’s ass.

* * *

 

Nate does a little double-take when he walks in. It’s movie night, and Hardison, Parker, and Eliot are stationed on the couch as usual. Except Parker is draped across the both of them, her head propped against Hardison’s shoulder with her legs folded over Eliot’s lap. Eliot has one arm resting on Parker’s ankles and the other stretched across the back of the couch, his hand alternating between resting on the back of Hardison’s neck and playing with Parker’s hair, and Hardison is using the hand that isn’t holding his phone to lightly trace shapes on Parker’s arm.

The image is simultaneously very unsettling and...totally normal.

Nate doesn’t actually realize he’s staring until Parker remarks, “You better not be thinking about going after my popcorn. I’m armed.” A second later, Eliot reaches over and grabs a handful from the bowl in her arms, and Nate gets the distinct feeling that if anyone other than the two men flanking Parker did that, they’d find themselves being zapped with a Taser.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nate says.

When he comes back downstairs after changing, he finds the three of them throwing handfuls of popcorn at each other like twelve year-olds. It’s like working with children, he swears.

* * *

 

The shift in dynamic is so seamless, so natural, that Parker and Eliot and Hardison don’t even notice the way they’ve started automatically crowding together on the couch during briefings or standing flush against each other in the bar.

Sophie and Nate notice. They see how, after a job goes well, there are always arms draped over shoulders and celebratory side hugs. If a job goes badly and someone gets thrown into harm’s way, there are full on hugs and heads resting on shoulders and, more often than not, someone is holding someone’s hand.

Sometimes Sophie will walk into Nate’s place and see Hardison fast asleep on the couch, his head pillowed in Parker’s lap, or Parker helping Eliot make dinner, or Parker and Eliot trying to teach wrestling moves to Hardison (an endeavor that, more often than not, results in a laughing pile on the floor that none of them ever seems eager to extricate themselves from).

One morning when Nate comes downstairs, he finds Parker literally sitting in Hardison’s lap (and eating something that looks a lot like cereal drenched in chocolate syrup), with Eliot settled on the arm of the chair, legs tangled with Parker’s as he and Hardison argue over which team won the basketball game last night.

Nate finally caves. He really, really needs to know just what the hell is going on with his team.

“Can I just ask what, exactly, this is?”

He’s met with three quizzical expressions. “What what is?” Parker asks, blinking.

“Just...this.” Nate gestures vaguely with his hand. “The three of you.”

“Last time I checked, it was your crew,” Hardison says, arching an eyebrow.

“I know that. I meant...this. The sitting together, and the touching, all of that. What is that?”

The trio exchanged confused glances, and Eliot looks like he’s about to say something, but Sophie arrives just at that moment and Hardison gently shoves Parker off his lap so he can stand up and start the briefing for their new case.

* * *

 

Nate doesn’t ask again. He doesn’t have to.

It should have been an easy job, but somewhere, something went wrong, and the result is Parker slumped on Nate’s couch with a bullet in her shoulder. Sophie is demanding going to a hospital, but Parker keeps insisted that it’s fine, Eliot will fix her up as soon as he and Hardison get there. She cracks a slightly forced smile and says, “You should see the other guy.”

Still, she’s looking more than a little pale by the time Eliot and Hardison come bursting through the door, ten minutes earlier than Nate would have guessed - he has no idea how they managed to drive all the way across town in so short a time, but judging by the frantic expression on Hardison’s face they’re lucky they weren’t pulled over for speeding.

Hardison won’t stop talking, he’s bombarding Nate with questions about what happened and why they aren’t at the hospital, and he’s not even bothering to disguise the fear in his face (even after Eliot reassures them that it’s a very minor wound with no lasting damage).

Eliot, apart from that statement, is utterly silent, steady and methodical as he removes the bullet and cleans and bandages the wound. A person who didn’t know him would think he was calm, but Nate sees the tension in his shoulders and the way he keeps clenching his jaw, and he knows just how calm Eliot isn’t right now.

Nate’s also pretty sure he’s going to get punched in the face fairly soon.

Hardison finally stops talking, mostly because Parker has just asked him to get her a bottle of soda and some painkillers, and Eliot takes advantage of the lull to stand up (pausing to brush his thumb against Parker’s cheek) and say, “Nate? A word?” He cocks his head in the direction of the hallway and doesn’t wait to see if Nate is following him.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Eliot rounds on his heel. “What the hell happened back there, Nate?”

“The security guards changed their route tonight, we didn’t have any warning at all...”

“Dammit, Nate, you’re the mastermind, you’re supposed to have backup plans so that this doesn’t happen!” Eliot’s repressing the urge to hit him, Nate can tell. He’s got a look on his face that says, very clearly, “I can hurt you, but I won’t, because I’m not in control of myself right now and I don’t want to do anything I’ll regret.”

Nate sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he says, letting some of the guilt he’s been feeling seep into his voice. “I should have been prepared for it and I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who got hurt.”

“I know that too. And I’m sorry.” He looks Eliot straight in the eye. “I really am sorry, Eliot.”

Eliot stares at him for a long time. Then he nods, once, and walks away.

Nate sighs again and follows Eliot back inside. Hardison has curled up on one side of Parker, carding fingers through her hair and not saying a word as she and Sophie discuss some of the cons that can be pulled off with a bullet wound. Nate watches Eliot slide in on Parker’s other side, careful not to jostle her shoulder, and rest his hand on her neck, right at her pulse point. Parker places the hand that isn’t holding Hardison’s on top of Eliot’s, and she gives each of them a small but reassuring smile, a silent reminder that she’s okay, that they’re all okay, and lightly kisses them both.

And suddenly Nate gets it. He didn’t before, because he was expecting a normal reason behind all of whatever this is, and that was a pretty ridiculous expectation, because none of them have ever done “normal” very well. It’s not a conventional relationship, not by a long shot, but it’s pretty obvious that it works for them. It makes his crew happy, and if his crew is happy, Nate’s happy.

And in the morning, when he comes downstairs and finds them all fast asleep, Parker nestled in Eliot’s lap with Hardison’s arm wrapped around her waist, Nate can only smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from this quote by Anaïs Nin: "I reserve the right to love many different people at once, and to change my prince often."


End file.
